


Day 12: Candlelight

by Lady_Arkena



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Candlelight, Day 12, HobbitAdvent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arkena/pseuds/Lady_Arkena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for the Hobbit Advent on tumblr<br/>Day 12: Candlelight</p>
<p>Rated M ... just to be on the safe side<br/>nothing graphic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 12: Candlelight

**Day 12: Candlelight**

Dwalin went through the empty corridors of Erebor with only a candle to light the way. They didn't use the torches at the walls. It wasn't worthwhile yet, since not many dwarves had returned to the Lonely Mountain after it was reclaimed. Most waited for springtime to start their journey home.

The upcoming winter festival would be a rather quiet affair, much to the chagrin of Fíli and Kíli. The two princes had been looking forward to celebrating the feast with their mother and their other relatives, but then a letter from Lady Dís had arrived, telling them that she would leave the Blue Mountains after the snowmelt.

When he reached the rooms, he shared with Thorin, he slipped inside. It was already late, but his king had the annoying habit of working deep into the night, wearing himself out for the good of his people. Often enough the warrior had to drag him to bed.

He was surprised, when the rooms were dark and the other dwarf was nowhere to see. He silently entered their bedroom and smiled at the sight of his sleeping lover. Dwalin put down the candle on the nightstand and sat down on the bed.

Thorin looked so much younger in his sleep, undisturbed by his daily worries and responsibilities. He deserved more of these peaceful moments, and not only in his slumber. If he just would let go for some time …

The warrior thoughtfully watched the interplay of warm candlelight and shadows, dancing over his king. He slowly bent forward, gently caressing the dark mass of hair. His lover didn’t stir at the contact and soon Dwalin got bolder. He traced the outer shell of Thorin’s ear and followed the jawline with his fingers, stroking the short beard.

He stopped his ministrations, when his friend suddenly sighed and rolled on to his back. The blanket slid down, revealing his broad, hairy chest. For a brief moment Dwalin thought he had woken him, but the other dwarf’s breathing evened out again.

The warrior watched again, when the dimly light of the flame drew new shadows over tattoos and scars. Especially the big one over his king’s heart down to his stomach caught his eye and reminded him just how much Thorin’s life had been in danger. The pale skin stood out against the dark hair and was still tender.

A strangled sound escaped Dwalin’s throat, when he thought about another, more horrible end of this dreadful battle. They had nearly lost their king and his heirs … No, he mustn’t think of it. They were alive and Azog was dead. Durin’s line wasn’t broken.

He rose abruptly, suddenly full of tense energy. The candle flickered because of his hurried movement and a sea of shadows surged over walls and furniture. He warily looked around, but no danger loomed in the dark corners.

Embarrassed by his own foolishness Dwalin quietly began to undress and with each piece of clothing gone his tension slowly turned into a jumpy anxiety. When he was completely naked, he gazed at his sleeping lover, drinking in the steady lifting and lowering of his chest.

He carefully slid under the blankets and gently ran his fingers over his friend’s skin, before his mouth followed, tenderly kissing and licking the big scar. Thorin was so warm, so alive under his hands that he couldn't get enough of him.

“Dwalin ...”

The warrior moaned, when he heard his name whispered like a prayer. “I had to make sure that you are alive … that this isn't just a dream and I will wake up alone,” he confessed and brushed his lips against the pale skin of his lover's scar.

His king sighed at the contact and drowsily watched him with half opened eyes. “I'm here … I won't leave you. I will look after you ...” Thorin murmured soothingly.

“No, you don't,” Dwalin growled annoyingly and met his lover in a searing kiss, before he said huskily, “Let me take care of you, âzyungâl (= lover). You don't have to be strong all the time.”

The other dwarf smiled sleepily at the warrior's little outburst and snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Shomakhel (=guard of all guards),” he whispered and his breathing evened out, when sleep claimed him once again.

Dwalin blinked surprised and then chuckled lowly, extinguishing the candle. “You are unbelievable.”


End file.
